Blush
by firstadream
Summary: "You're cute when you blush." Post-finale fic. Pretty much pure fluff. Polivia, obviously.


_Post-finale fic. Really just pure fluff. So…yeah._

—

**Blush**

—

Olivia walked into the apartment ahead of Peter and wandered into the kitchen. She listened to the thud of the closing door, the quiet thunk as Peter dropped her bag to the floor. She gripped the edge of the countertop and leaned against it, letting her head fall forward and her tired eyes fall shut.

"You okay?" Peter asked, walking up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist.

She nodded and leaned back into his chest. Hummed contentedly when he tightened his grip around her.

"You sure?" he murmured, his voice quiet and a little raspy.

He pressed his lips to the soft skin just behind her ear, making her shiver as his stubble tickled her neck. She turned her head to the side, her cheek pressed to his shirt, and relaxed against him, knowing he'd hold her up. She could stay like this for hours. She wanted to. Her mind was blurry with exhaustion—the deep kind that made your limbs heavy and your head foggy.

"Liv?" he prompted again, his voice questioning, laced with worry still.

She turned in his arms so she could see his face. Offered up a soft, sleepy smile. "I'm fine, Peter," she told him, because she was. But it was…a lot. Almost causing the end of two universes, jumping out of a helicopter onto an invisible boat, dying and undying, finding out she was pregnant—a lot to experience in less than twenty-four hours. A little too much if she was being honest.

"I'm just…tired," she said, her voice soft. She closed her eyes and pressed her face into his neck, sagging against him a little. He felt so good and sturdy. She could already feel herself beginning to drift on the edge of consciousness and she was still upright.

He chuckled quietly. "Let's get you to bed."

Probably a good plan, but she still wasn't happy when he pulled away, taking away his warmth and arms and vertical support. "You better come with me," she mumbled as she followed him, a little dazedly, into the bedroom.

He threw her a grin over his shoulder. "As if that was ever in question."

She'd barely slipped out of her jacket and shoes before she flopped onto the comforter, not bothering to pull back the blankets. Maybe she was a little more tired than she thought. He chuckled again, but she was too sleepy to open her eyes, too sleepy to even feel embarrassed for her slightly ridiculous behavior.

"Olivia, you need to get under the covers," he said, crouching beside the bed.

"Mmm," was her incoherent, half-asleep response.

There was that chuckle again. She definitely preferred it to the worry. "Okay, fine," he said. "But I'm not letting you freeze to death."

If she hadn't been so sleepy she would've pointed out that it was May and freezing to death in a well-insulated house was probably not a real concern, but he was already standing up and heading back into the living room. He returned a moment later with a throw blanket that he draped over her, which actually felt nice. But it felt even better when he lay down on the bed behind her, curling his body around hers.

"Don't even need the blanket," she murmured. "Just you."

"You get sappy when you're unconscious," he told her, but she could tell even with her eyes closed that he was smiling, that he loved it.

She pressed back into him, loving the feel of his broad chest at her back, his lips pressed to the curve of her shoulder, his hand resting warm and protective over her stomach. "Love you," she whispered.

"Love you, too."

—

When Peter woke up, it was dark out and Olivia was still deep asleep in his arms, her body completely relaxed against him. He smiled as he looked at her face, lips turned down slightly, not a worry line in sight. He let his eyes trail over the smooth contours of her forehead and cheeks, the line of her jaw and chin, then down over her neck to her chest that rose and fell steadily with each breath. He watched for a moment and was suddenly overwhelmed with what it had felt like to hold her slack body in his arms—her stilled heart, her breathless lungs. It was crushing, left him a little breathless just to remember, even lying here in this dark, quiet room with her breathing and alive in his arms.

He'd spent too many days and weeks and months missing her. He never wanted to feel that again. A part of him wanted to lock the front door and persuade her to hide out in this little apartment with him, to forget about the outside world if only for a few weeks. Their only concern would be what to order for dinner, not whether or not the world was going to end.

_Normal. _He wanted it so badly. But more than that he wanted her to be safe, needed her to be safe—her and their baby.

The thought made him smile, made his body soften slightly as he shook away the remnants of that moment when he'd thought he'd lost her, lost everything. He shifted his gaze to the hand that still rested over her abdomen. He pushed up her shirt slightly and splayed his hand across the warm, smooth skin of her belly.

He still couldn't believe it. Olivia was pregnant with _his baby. _It was too good to be true and yet here they were. He wanted to wake her up and kiss her or talk to her or just stare at her. He felt full and a little breathless with all this happiness—awe at her and their future and this incredible thing they'd done together.

"Liv?" he whispered, close to her ear. "Livia?"

"Mmm," she hummed, shifting slightly in his arms, barely awake. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I just…" He trailed off. She sighed and shifted her hand, almost unconsciously, to his hand where it rested over her stomach. He grinned and kissed her neck. "I just…I love you."

She smiled, but something in his voice made her turn in his arms. She lifted her hand to his cheek, felt the scratch of his whiskers against her palm. "I love you, too," she said quietly.

Her voice was a little rough, her eyes a little glazed. Her body was warm and soft. Sleepy. He loved her most when she was like this—open and content in his arms. It amazed him how she rose above the horrors of the world and still managed to crack a smile, to kiss him like she might come undone from how in love she was.

"You're going to be an amazing mother," he told her, leaning forward to kiss her forehead, her closed eyelids, her mouth.

She hummed softly into the kiss. "You think so?" she asked and he could see the flicker of insecurity in her eyes.

"I know so," he told her. "I wish you could see it, Olivia."

"See what?"

"How easy you are to love."

"Peter…"

"You are," he told her, his voice soft but fierce. He lifted his hand and threaded his fingers into her hair, trailed his hand down her arm to the curve of her waist. "You know why?"

She smiled shyly, so uncertain, and dropped her eyes from his face. "No."

"Because you open your heart to everyone."

"Only to you," she murmured, surprising him. She kissed him softly, then deeper, and he was momentarily distracted as her tongue traced the seam of lips before delving inside.

He groaned softly. Tugged her closer, needing to feel her body against his. "I know you think you're broken in some way, because of what Walter and Bell did to you, but you're not. You have the biggest heart of anyone I know, Liv."

"It's yours, you know," she said. She smiled up at his face. "My heart."

"So sappy," he breathed, but he couldn't really bring himself to tease. "I'm yours, too. You're the one that brought me back."

"What do you mean?"

"I didn't exist. I was erased, but you held on, like you always do. Pulled me right out of thin air. Brought me home."

"Walter, too," she insisted, not wanting to take the credit. So like her. "And Astrid. Maybe even Broyles…"

But he just shook his head, cutting her off. "You're what I live for. I don't know when it happened, but you—you're what I came back for. What I crossed time and space and possibility for."

She smiled, not quite meeting his eye. "You're gonna make me blush," she muttered and he laughed, because this is exactly the way she was—carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders, but never taking credit for it.

"You're cute when you blush," he breathed, kissing her soundly.

She giggled—actually giggled—and he was so delighted by the sound that he dipped his head forward and pressed light kisses to her neck, knowing she was a little ticklish there. He wasn't disappointed. She let out a breathless laugh, pressing her hands to his chest and half heartedly pushing him away.

He stopped his torture and caught her tight against his chest. "I love it when you laugh," he confessed.

She grinned at him, flushed and bright. "Did you notice?"

"Notice what?" he asked a little distractedly. She was so goddamned beautiful.

"This is all very domestic of us."

"Hmm, you're right. I like it."

"Me too."

—

"So domestic," he commented when he found her in the kitchen the next morning, cooking up breakfast in nothing but one of his dress shirts and slippers.

He walked over to her and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. "You know, this is the exact same outfit Walter usually selects when he cooks breakfast. Somehow it looks much sexier on you."

"I'm flattered," she said, leaning back into him when he rested his hands on her hips. "Walter has quite the bod."

He cringed. "Not something I'd like to think about, thank you very much."

He peered over her shoulder, inspecting her work. "Did you put cheese in the eggs?"

"Tons."

"Just the way I like it." He paused. "So…"

She threw a glance at him, before returning her attention to the pans on the stove. "So?"

"No morning sickness?"

"Nope," she told him, then frowned. "Were you nervous to ask me that?"

"Hey, I'd like to talk about you being pregnant all day long. Pretty much the best thing to happen to me. Ever. I just figured you'd get sick of it after a while."

"Look at you already vying for Father of the Year. You're pretty adorable, you know that?"

He shrugged. "I try."

She turned the heat down low under the eggs and bacon and turned in his arms, lifting her arms to wrap around his neck. "You can ask as many questions as you want," she offered, kissing him softly.

"Thanks, babe," he breathed, deepening the kiss. She moaned softly and lifted into it, rocking onto her toes for a better angle.

"So," he continued conversationally, shifting his lips to her jaw. "No morning sickness. Any other symptoms? Food cravings? Fatigue?" He kissed her chin, her lips again briefly, before dipping down and pressing his mouth to the line of her collarbone. "Dizziness? Breast tenderness?"

"Hmm, now that you mention it…"

He laughed, his nose practically in her cleavage, and looked back up at her. "Really?"

She grinned. "A little. Not too bad. And, to answer your other questions—barbecue chips, a little, and no."

"Wait, I forget what I asked now," he said, resuming his task of kissing every part of her he could reach. He focused on her shoulder next. "You and your photographic memory."

She laughed, feeling a little breathless. "I'm craving barbecue chips, I'm a little more tired than usual, and no dizziness."

"Got it," he said. "Want me to go get you those chips?"

"In a little," she said.

He watched, the smile growing on his face, as she spun around, turned the burners off completely, took his hand and pulled him back into the bedroom. "I'm kinda horny," she told him, grinning wolfishly at him. "Is that a symptom of pregnancy?"

"Actually, sex drive usually drops in the first trimester," he informed her, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "Statistically speaking, of course."

"Huh." She sat down on his lap, winding her long legs around his waist. He groaned softly at the press of her hips into his. "Well, I'm glad I beat the odds."

—

"I'm starving," she told him.

"Eating for two."

She smiled. "I don't want to get up."

"You don't have to." He kissed her. "I'll get it."

He began to sit up, put she stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Wait. In a minute."

"Okay," he said, settling back beside her.

She blinked sleepily at him, a half smile quirking at the edge of her mouth. He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "You're beautiful."

"Pregnancy glow," she mumbled.

"Maybe. But you're always beautiful."

"You're gonna make me blush again."

"You're cute when you blush."

—

_So much Polivia love. I love this couple to bits and pieces. The finale was wonderfully epic. And that scene in the hospital with the baby announcement and the kissing and the adorableness of our little Fringe family all together…So ridiculously perfect! _

_Anyway—please review!_


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